Trauma

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John Main climbed to the top of the hill and turned to look out over the city to the Firth of Forth and the hills of Fife beyond. He was out of breath from the climb and his hands were muddy from the hard scramble over wet ground. It had started to rain again but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for up here, but it had something to do with perspective. The only other thing he knew was that he hadn’t found it.

In his heart he knew that he wouldn’t find it here, but he had to go along with his instincts. He found a boulder and sat down. It was wet and covered with moss, but that didn’t matter either. Slowly the Forth and the hills disappeared from view as rain clouds drifted in from the west to obscure the horizon and foreshorten his view. Colours were lost as a universal greyness crept over the city. From here he could see the hospital that had played such a major role in his tragedy.

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